Metaphors and Regrets
by jbn42
Summary: Kensi and Deeks get back to the mission after they miss Sam and Callen at the marina, and Kensi realizes that it's time for them to have an actual conversation, no matter how hard it is.


**Author's Note – Just a one shot follow up to the season finale - first ever fic for this fandom, just something that crept into my head due to my frustration with the show's writers this year. I'm also pretty irked by Hetty's behavior at this point, so if you think Hetty can do no wrong, you've been warned. Don't own anything, no profit here to be found.**

Collapsed on the sofa just off of the bullpen in the mission after what had been a much longer day than he expected, Deeks combs a hand through his hair and lets his head fall back against the cushions. He closes his eyes and tries not to think about Sam and Callen trapped in a submarine headed God knows where. It's getting late now, but he isn't going home. He called a neighbor to walk and feed Monty, because they need to be here if the Wonder Twins up in Ops manage to track the sub somehow. Other than Nell and Eric upstairs and Granger lurking about, it's just Kensi and him here now.

After they arrived at the marina to find the sub already gone, Granger ordered them back to the mission to await further orders. Kensi immediately asked where Hetty was, and Granger, as is his custom, brusquely told her Hetty was gone. Kensi blanched at that, and mumbling that she needed to shoot something, she headed for the range. Deeks knew that was Kensi-speak for needing some time to herself.

Deeks sighs and pinches his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Pretty much everything about today has been an utter disaster, from Kensi's run-ins with Hetty, to Callen and Sam disappearing, to Talia. Shaking his head again at how awkward everything had been at the boatshed and distractedly rubbing the place on his arm where Kensi hit him all day, he mutters, "What _was _that?"

Watching Deeks from across the room, Kensi feels a flash of guilt. She doesn't know what came over her today. Ever since the whole damned three hearts and raccoons conversations, she's been completely confused by her shaggy blond partner. She has always played the part of the more reticent one in their relationship, and their recent role-reversal has left her feeling off-kilter and out of sorts. Given how much she hates feeling that way, the confusion eventually morphed into frustration.

She was out of control today, and she knows it. Between hitting him repeatedly and then acting like a jealous teenager back at the boatshed, this has not been her best day. She cringes when she thinks about how ridiculous both she and Talia were with their little preening performances, though she does take a tiny measure of solace in the knowledge that Talia had been just as ridiculous and juvenile as Kensi had been.

No matter what, she owes Deeks an apology – but she sucks at apologies. In this case, she doesn't know where to start, and she also knows that admitting she was silly will likely also end up forcing her to admit she was jealous and on the offensive from the moment Talia called Deeks "partner."

Pausing for a moment, she fumes silently. The woman's familiarity and open flirtation with Deeks had been infuriating, and her casual remark about expecting Kensi to be some sort of blonde California girl had grated in the worst way. She's not sure why she found it so insulting, except for maybe the obviously appraising manner with which the words were thrown at her.

And then, the cherries on the cake of her day, they got there too late to help Callen and Sam, and Hetty left. She can't help but roll her eyes a little. Hetty needs to get some new material. She's starting to feel more than a little manipulated by the woman she used to trust more than anyone else in the world. She'd still, maybe inexplicably, do just about anything for the woman. She's just no longer willing to do so blindly – Hetty's rude brush offs today didn't help matters. Kensi knows she's missing something about Afghanistan, but she doesn't know what it is. That's just adding to her current frustration.

Her thoughts return to her partner. If there was one good moment this entire day, it was his exasperated retort of, "_You're _beautiful!" Even she isn't sure why she whacked him for that; well, that's a lie. She knows it was to cover up how much she loved him saying it. His muttered question a moment ago drives her to where he's sprawled out on the sofa, rubbing his sore arm. She gathers her courage for a conversation she knows is long overdue, and she's not going to let them do their usual avoidance thing. She's tired of dancing around and ridiculous metaphors. More than anything, she's tired of this awkward limbo they seem to be in.

Even though it's difficult, she swallows hard against the fear of rejection and tries her best to sound casual when she approaches him. "What was what?"

Kensi's soft voice makes him jump. He sits up quickly, blinking up at her. She motions for him to stay down, and guilt floods through her again when he flinches slightly as if she's going to hit him again. She shakes her head and sits sideways and cross-legged next to him so she can look at him. "I'm sorry."

He furrows his brow in confusion. "For what?"

She carefully reaches out and places a now-gentle hand on his upper arm. Her voice is so soft that he has to strain to hear her when she replies, "I don't know why I do that to you. I shouldn't do that to you."

He suddenly realizes that today's erratic, slightly angry and, he's pretty certain, jealous Kensi is gone. He has no idea what has come over her, but he hates the lost expression on her face. It bothers him almost as much as the broken one she wore after they rescued her in Afghanistan. "Kensi, what…"

She shakes her head and stares at his arm, finding it easier than his eyes. She loves looking at his arms – not that she'll tell him that – but she gets lost in his eyes. "I'm tired, Marty."

She's scaring him now. She never calls him by his first name. He takes a chance and reaches towards her, cupping her cheek with his hand. "Kensi, look at me." She just shakes her head again, but instead of pulling back, he's stunned when she actually closes her eyes and nuzzles her face into his palm. "Fern?"

After a few more moments, she opens her eyes and looks up at him. "I heard you talking to Talia."

His heart sinks a little. "Kens…the brother and sister thing…"

"That isn't what bothered me. I couldn't see your face, but I think I could actually _hear_ the bullshit in your voice."

He can't help but chuckle at that, but then he realizes what she said. "What did bother you, Fern?"

She feels warmth flood her face, and she moves towards him, feeling a little relieved when he automatically wraps his arms around her, holding her close and relaxing back against the cushions, almost pulling her into his lap. She rests her head on his chest and clings to him.

He knows he's been drawing some lines between them lately, but for some reason tonight they're blowing away like they're made of sand. He gets lost in his thoughts and in the near-ridiculous feeling of comfort he gets from holding her like this. Her soft voice draws him out of his thoughts, though. "Why didn't you just say yes?"

"Yes to what?"

"When Talia asked if we'd ever…"

"Kensi," he leans away so he can see her face. She tenses a little and looks up at him, and he can see a flicker of hurt in her mismatched eyes. He huffs out a breath and leans down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "I would never disrespect you that much, Kensi." She starts to say something, but he continues, "It was none of Talia's damned business, and more than that, you heard her – could the way she asked have been any more, I don't know," he searches for the word he wants.

"Crass? Vulgar? Crude?"

He snorts. "Those all work. And that's why I hedged and gave her a non-answer, Kensi. I wasn't going to outright lie, but no way was I telling her, especially when I don't know if you're OK with people knowing."

She allows herself to relax even further into him, the idea that he was actually just protecting her making her feel better. Even so, she can't stop the doubt. "But nothing happened with her? I mean when I was gone?"

It stings him a bit that she even has to ask. He knows he's been the one pushing back lately, though, so he can't entirely blame her. "Nothing, my Kensalina. At least nothing like you're probably imagining. I did have to help her to the restroom because of her injury, and yes, she flirted with me like crazy," she tenses again, and he's quick to add, his voice soft with none of his usual joking tone, "But I didn't flirt back, Kens. I don't know why she thought she had a chance. Why the hell would I want her when I have you?"

For some reason, his clear sincerity brings tears to her eyes, and before she can stop herself, she meekly asks, "You really think I'm beautiful?"

He hates the uncertainty he hears in her voice, and he knows it's at least in part his fault with all the third heart crap and giving back her dad's knife the way he did. He hates that the events of the last six months have made her doubt both herself and their relationship. "God, Kens, you're not just beautiful, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. How can you not know that?"

She takes a deep breath and pulls back slightly, looking up at him again. "We have to talk about us, Marty. We have to figure us out. I can't keep doing this, the metaphors and avoidance, and I don't really think you want to either."

He smirks, and at her questioning look, he admits, "I can't decide if I like you calling me Marty or if it's kind of freaking me out. I really think it may be the latter." He waits for the whack to his arm or chest, but it never comes.

She keeps looking at him, and it occurs to her that he's once again prepared for her to hit him. She can't believe that she's let herself do this to him, that he's let her do this to him. Tears come to her eyes again. "I have to stop that."

He looks confused again. "Stop what?"

"Treating you like my personal punching bag every time I'm having a hard day. I even do it when it's not actually your fault, like today." She tries to blink them back, but the tears spill over.

"Kensi, it's OK."

"No, Deeks, it's not. It's not OK at all. It would be one thing if it was playful and gentle, but I know it wasn't today, and I know it wasn't when…" She trails off, shame leaving her unable to continue.

"When?" She won't meet his eyes, and he suddenly realizes when "when" was. "Kensi, I could have gotten us both killed because I didn't take the shot. You and I both know that. I'm not saying it was deserved, but it wasn't exactly a situation where I didn't provoke it."

"Marty, I hit you in the mouth barely six months after you were…after Sidorov. I still don't know why you appear to have forgiven me for that. It was awful of me, and I don't care what you did – it was undeserved and just plain wrong."

He reaches down and brushes away her tears. "Kens, how long have you been beating yourself up over this? Please don't tell me it's since it happened." She closes her eyes, and he pulls her tight to his body, determined to keep her with him through what he's about to say to her. "Look, Princess, I won't pretend that I liked it. I didn't. It bothered me, because yes, a shot to the face from someone I trust and care about? Not good, but not because of Sidorov. It was bad because it took me back to when I was a kid. I can't pretend that's not true. Usually, the other times you've whacked me were fine because they _were_ playful – but today wasn't. Something else was going on today. Today reminded me of my dad too, times where he'd just nail me or Mom for no reason at all."

She swallows a sob and tries to pull away, feeling even worse now. She never even thought about that before. His arms tighten, and she knows he's not going to release her right now. He goes on, "But Kens, I don't hold that against you, mainly because I never said anything. Not a word. I'm a big boy, and I could have told you not to do that. I also could have told you why."

She shakes her head. No way is she going to let him make this somehow his issue. "No, Deeks. That's bullshit. You're right – you never said to stop – but you shouldn't have had to. I knew the playful was fine with you, but I don't know why I push it too far. I have to at least try to stop it, all of it, and I need you to call me on it from now on." Her eyes plead with him, and he actually really appreciates that this is important to her.

"OK, Princess. I will." Wanting to lighten things up, he gives her a small grin and adds, "Maybe we need to do a swear jar sort of thing. Every time you whack me, gentle or otherwise, you have to put in a dollar."

She wrinkles her nose and pouts a little, a look that's more often seen on him. Then, her eyes light up. "Deal, but if, at the end of the month there's less than twenty dollars in it, you have to use the money to buy me junk food. I need motivation – a challenge."

He smiles broadly. "OK. And if there's more than twenty?"

She purses her lips and furrows her brow while she thinks about that, and he thinks that it's about the cutest thing he's ever seen. After a few moments, she says, "I take you to dinner at the oasis of your choice. I can use the money in the jar, but I have to cover any shortfall out of my own pocket."

He holds out his hand. "Sounds like we have an agreement, Agent Blye."

She takes his hand and they shake on it. Without releasing his hand, she says with a warning grin, "But no intentionally provoking me to get more money in the jar. I'm telling Callen and Sam about this, and they get to decide if you're out of line."

He nods, but his smile fades as he thinks about the rest of their team. When she realizes what she said, her face falls too. He squeezes her hand. "We'll get them back, Princess."

She looks down at their joined hands. "Promise?"

"Belief." With his free hand, he tilts her face up to his and, taking a chance, presses his lips gently to hers. He planned to make it a short kiss, but she has different ideas. Her own free hand comes up and buries itself in the hair at the nape of his neck, and she kisses him back with surprising force.

He releases her hand and pulls her the rest of the way into his lap as they deepen the kiss, but they keep it mostly G-rated, both of them aware of where they are. When they finally pull apart, he keeps his eyes closed and touches his forehead to hers. "Did we actually manage to have an entire conversation about us without metaphors and without physical violence?"

She laughs softly. "I think we did." She opens her eyes and looks up at him, suddenly nervous again. "Where do we stand, Marty?"

He brushes a strand of hair out of her eyes. "I'm going to go back to the metaphor now, Kens. I told you, I think raccoons mate for life," seeing her eyes narrow, he adds quickly, "But I should have also said that in our scenario, we're the raccoons, and I'm pretty sure we're already…_mated_."

He gives her a leer, and she rolls her eyes and grins. "You're right, you should have added that."

His cell rings, making them both jump. He huffs out a breath and holds it up for her to see. She sees the words, "TALIA – DEA," on the screen, and she nods to him to answer. He presses the button for the speaker. "Deeks."

"I heard what happened, and I wanted to check that you're OK, partner."

Kensi rolls her eyes again, and she's about to say something when Deeks stops her by waving his hand. "Talia, I'm fine. Good, in fact. But I have a partner, and she's not you. You're a good agent and a good person, but you're not my partner. Unless you have anything for the case, I need to let you go, because I'm keeping this line clear."

Kensi can't help the smile that spreads across her face at his words to the DEA agent, and it's silent for a moment before Talia replies in a slightly subdued tone, "I see. Well, too bad. I hope Agent Callen and Agent Hanna are all right. If you all need anything from the DEA, let me know. I'll see what we can do."

Deeks' face softens a little. "Thanks, Talia. We appreciate it."

"Bye, Marty."

"Bye." The call ends, and he looks at Kensi. "So, do we try to keep us under wraps, or are we out in the open?"

She frowns at the quick gear change, but it's a good question. "I don't know. I don't want to hide, but…"

"Last time we were obvious, it didn't end so well." He finishes the thought for her.

She nods and is about to reply when a gravelly voice startles them. "It didn't have anything to do with your relationship."

They look up to see Granger standing there. Deeks gives him a hard look. "What does that mean?"

Kensi stands up, and Deeks does the same, a protective hand landing on the small of her back. She presses, "What are you talking about, Director?"

The man in front of them sighs. "I know you two think I'm to blame for a lot of things here, but I suggest that you corner Henrietta the next chance you have. You both deserve the whole story. I have no intention of sharing it, because it's not mine to share. But suffice to say, the new…status…of your relationship had nothing to do with Agent Blye's assignment to Afghanistan. That was all Henrietta, but she had her own reasons that had nothing to do with your relationship." He looks directly at Deeks, "So stop blaming yourself for it, Detective."

They stare at Granger in surprise. He seems nearly human. Nearly. After a moment, Kensi sighs. "One thing I need to say – I'm sorry for going off on my own. I should have told you I recognized Jack, and I didn't. That was stupid. I trusted Hetty more than I trusted you. I'm pretty sure it'll at the very least be a while before I do that again." She frowns. "She's gone because of Afghanistan, isn't she?"

Granger shakes his head. "I can't answer that, Blye."

Deeks nods. "All due respect, but you kind of just did, sir. If it wasn't because of Afghanistan, you'd have just said no."

It's Granger's turn to roll his eyes. "Damned lawyers."

Kensi blinks in surprise and reaches out to take Deeks' hand in hers. "What's going to happen to our team, Director?"

Granger crosses his arms across his chest. "You four, six if I count those two upstairs, irritate the crap out of me most days, but you're also damned effective."

He turns to head for the stairs to Ops. Turning back for a moment, he says, "If we recover Agents Callen and Hanna, with or without Henrietta, this place will go on. But Detective, I put a new set of papers in your desk drawer, since Henrietta's on leave for now. Sign the damned things. Given your experience, FLETC will be waived, and you'll be assigned here. " Deeks gives him a surprised look, and the man smirks. "Henrietta's not the only one with skills, Detective. And for the record, unless it actually causes trouble, I don't give a damn if you two are fraternizing. I just don't want to hear about it or catch you making out again, clear?"

Without waiting for an answer, he turns and heads up the stairs. "And get your asses up to Ops. Beale and Jones have something for us."

They can hear him laughing to himself as he goes, clearly pleased with himself for surprising them in several ways. Deeks looks down at Kensi, and he can't stop himself from kissing her quickly and then picking her up in a bear hug. To his surprise, she just laughs and hugs him back. When he puts her down, she takes his hand again and pulls him towards the stairs. As they ascend towards Ops together, Kensi asks, "Deeks, what papers?"

He swallows and thinks about where he can find a jar, because he knows it's going to have a dollar in it shortly. "Well, remember back before Hetty went to Romania?"


End file.
